Prisoner
by bassgoddess
Summary: *Hermione is an adult* - takes place during DH. A small part of a much larger story. This first chapter is the flashback. Hermione is captured by the snatchers and becomes Scabior's prisoner. Some dub/con issues. Patriarchal issues. Supposes Voldemort was defeated, Dumbledore and Snape are still alive and Hogwarts is still standing.
1. Chapter 1

Her mind always wandered back to that time when it was windy. Just like today, the leaves crackling in the air and crunching underneath her boots. She half expected to round the corner and see him there in front of her, his blue eyes boring into hers and the red streak in his hair unmistakable.

* * *

Hermione had been with him for almost three weeks and they had spoken maybe twenty words to each other. The week before she had suffered the tremendous indignity of having to ask him to procure feminine hygiene items. Her cheeks blushed even at the thought of admitting something so personal to her captor. If it affected him, he didn't show it. He really didn't show her anything much. He was mostly disagreeable, didn't seem to want to speak to her or associate in any way. He was different from the man that had hunted her; pulled her to him as he smelled her hair. His eyes still roamed her body at times, but mostly they had settled into a fairly mundane routine; moving camp, her waiting as he and his team chased and hunted Mudbloods, the evening meal and then bedtime.

She had thought he would force himself on her, especially after all his lewd comments, but he did not. He was probably too tired, she thought. Or drunk.

Bedtime consisted of her laying down, trying to sleep and him stumbling in, hours later, drunk and hair wild, climbing into the small shared bed and settling on the far side of the mattress.

He brought her books occasionally. She refused to accept them at first; refusing to give him any sort of satisfaction. Because she wouldn't accept gifts from a monster. Because he was a monster when all was said and done.

He brought her a book about birds today, for what reason, she had no idea. Probably because it was available. Most likely because he had taken it from some poor Mudblood he then _disposed_ of. She wondered briefly at its previous owner but immediately tried to put that out of her mind. It did no good to dwell on such thoughts. As she turned the book in her hands she noted the crease in the binding and the musty smell of the pages. That smell always brought her back to Hogwarts; back to the restricted section of the library where she spent so much of her time.

The book had been left on the makeshift table they ate their meals at in silence in his tent.

She wondered if she was ever going to be released. If the war would be over, if she would see her friends or her school again. If she'd ever be free.

Looking around she realized he must be gone for the day, again, as every day. She took her book over to the bed and started reading.

Hours later, it was the wind that woke her, howling through the trees. Cracking her eyes, she saw that it was dark, and as she rolled onto her side she saw that he was in bed with her.

'What hour is it even?,' she thought for a moment. Who cared. All her days bled together and blurred into an unending mass of time.

She rolled onto her left side, away from him and was startled when his arm came about her waist, pulling her to him, her back to his chest.

He made some sort of noise deep in his throat and settled his nose in her hair. Her heart was racing, as she hadn't expected him to pull her to him. This was the closest they'd physically been since she became his prisoner.

His even breath ghosted over her ear, signaling he was still asleep. She exhaled and he, in response pulled her harder against him. She tried to gently squirm away, careful to not wake him but as she tried to work her way loose he shifted against her and she felt something press against her strangely.

Hermione was book smart but lacking in practical knowledge and it didn't take her long to realize what it was that was so insistently pressing against her lower back. Before she could decide what to do she felt his hot lips kiss the shell of her ear.

She froze.

He continued slowly, gently kissing just the outside of her ear. Each touch of his heated mouth made her feel something low in her belly. Something she had never felt before. Not even with herself.

His hand ran around her neck, grasping her hair and twisting it over her shoulder, leaving her neck bare on one side. Before she could take in another breath his mouth was ghosting over the side of her neck.

Hermione could feel the gooseflesh pebbling on the sensitive skin that lay between her neck and shoulder. She couldn't move. She was locked in place waiting for him. If she was being honest with herself, she didn't know if she wanted him to stop or to continue.

"You're enjoying the book." he said quietly, words dancing their way down her spine. It wasn't a question; it was more of a statement, and it was obvious to her he didn't mean for her to respond.

She cocked her neck to the side, displaying the flesh for him, her breath hitching at her boldness. This was all so new. She hated him, but the feeling was so intense, so world-alteringly sublime she had to have it again.

He complied, dipping his head to her neck and inhaling deeply, before gently kissing her where neck and shoulder met.

"You're so…," he started, his voice trailing off as his tongue darted out to taste her there.

Hermione let out a sound somewhere between a cry and a groan, and before she knew what was happening his large hands had come around her, fiddling with the fastenings of her jeans that she'd fallen asleep in and pulling them down her legs.

She should have felt self conscious in only her knickers. She should have stopped him or said something or done anything else except letting him run his tongue over the sensitive side of her neck while she kicked her jeans off. The offending garment discarded, she clasped and unclasped her fingers, bunching them into tight little fists, then releasing them in anticipation of his next move.

His hand went up under her soft woolen jumper as his mouth went back to her ear. She hadn't been wearing a bra and as his hand reached her breast he hummed in appreciation. He flicked her nipple gently as he played with her ear, back to her neck and she slammed her legs together, seeking desperately to quench the ache that had begun.

She heard him rustling and the bed dip and shift, but he was back behind her in an instant, his left hand at her waist, his right hand traveling lower, forcing her to part her legs as he kissed the top of her spine.

She wasn't sure what happened next but she felt the length of him, hot and insistent, dragging between her legs. She brought her thighs together around him to try and alleviate the tension she felt. Back and forth, he moved, slowly as she clenched and unclenched her legs around him.

"That's it…that's it, my lovely…," he was saying into her ear, moving against her, kissing her neck and kneading her breast.

She felt the pleasure building then. To an almost painful peak. Her hand immediately went to his at her waist and gripped it almost painfully.

"Stop…," was all she managed to get out.

Her words had their intended effect, for he stopped moving against her. Her heart was pounding so hard she could hear it in her ears as the silence stretched out between them. She realized then, she hadn't actually wanted him to stop, but if she didn't something would happen between them; something that would change her forever.

She hung there in that moment of pleasure and pain and released his fingers, pressing them into her waist, urging him on.

"Let me…," he started, resuming his motions and having her press down onto him. So close, so close…that glorious friction she craved was helping her near something…

She was almost sobbing her need for release as his fingers again found her nipple and pinched. Then the world broke in two and twisted and she was pulled over the edge.

Her heart was pounding and he could feel it from behind. She curled her back into him, pressing against him, but it wasn't enough. Before she could even think to say 'no' or move, he had pulled her panties to the side and pressed the tip of his head into her wet heat.

She took a breath in and held it. This was new. She hadn't ever done this. She felt it though. Want, need, or whatever you want to call it. Some animalistic call to action.

She slowly pushed back on him, urging him deeper as she exhaled. She felt him shudder for a second before bringing his other hand around her breasts and pulling her back to him, _on_ him, slowly, filling her fully.

She had heard stories about the immeasurable pain that one experiences, yet she felt none. She only felt the exquisite thrust and drag, and the wetness building inside of her.

She cocked her head and he resumed kissing her neck as he gripped her hips with both hands and pulled her to him, harder now.

Hermione could feel her inner muscles tightening, yet she was not nearing a release. Scabior instinctively knew this and reached one of his hands from her hip down, inside her panties, between her legs. He began to knead the soft, velvety skin at the apex of her thighs, and she rolled her head back onto his shoulder and let out a low moan.

"Yes…my lovely….," he was starting to speak in random intelligible ways but she didn't care, her head thrown back against him, body straining against his hand and the part of him inside her. His kneading turned into rubbing, went from slow to so fast it was almost too intense and she came apart in his arms. Her body spasmed as she let out a gasp, tightening around his and pulling him after her.

They lay like that for awhile, as she tried to catch her breath and will her heart to slow down. He pulled away from her as she felt him soften and fall out of her body, wondering at the stickiness she felt trickle out with him. She turned to look at him, but he was already facing away from her, his back to her.

She watched the curve of his spine and heard his breathing eventually settle into a calm rhythm. He had fallen asleep.

She rolled onto her back and eventually the wind lulled her into a dreamless sleep.


	2. Chapter 2

FIVE MONTHS LATER

—

Hermione Granger was running….running from she didn't know who. Twigs and roots tearing at her legs, causing her to fall and get back up. Running for her life. Harry was there too, and Ron. All of them running. Her legs ached and muscles rebelled but she overrode her body with her mind. She fell again, weak from exertion. No! She forced herself back up. Just keep going…keep going…and then…_laughter_?

Hermione jolted awake. She not running at all. She was safe in her Potions classroom. As she slowly regained her consciousness she realized the other students had been laughing at her. Pansy, Draco, Seamus, everyone was there. Laughing at her. Harry and Ron were there too but they weren't laughing. Ron mouthed 'Are you ok?,' at her. She nodded at him, her cheeks flushing. _Oh no_, she thought, _not in Potions_.

"Apparently today's lesson has proved…riveting to Miss Granger. Twenty points from Gryffindor. For sleeping in class."

Snape's deliberate speech roused her fully from her rest. She felt her mouth betray her at the corner and force a yawn as she quickly clapped a hand over it as she heard more laughter.

"And detention, for yawning."

—

Hermione gathered her heavy books together quickly as the class ended, wrapping them in her arms and slowly approached the teacher at the podium.

"Professor Snape," she started cautiously and he spun to face her. She could feel her heart speed up. He was kind of terrifying.

"I- I'm terribly sorry. I don't know what's come over me. I've been so tired-,"

"Do not bore me with your impertinence, Miss Granger. I am busy." He turned on his heel and grabbed a book from his podium.

"Have Madam Pomfrey check you if you are _so_ concerned for your well-being."

Hermione bit her tongue and curtly replied, "Yes, sir."

"The punishments still stand, Miss Granger. Dismissed," he said not even looking at her, nose in his book.

She wandered out of the classroom and down the long corridor. She'd go straightaway to the hospital wing and get herself checked out. All the nightmares and sleepiness had to stop. Maybe she had post-trauma stress. It had been quite the year after all.

After defeating the Dark Lord, everything had gone back to quasi normal. His followers had been imprisoned in Azkaban, and Dumbledore had congratulated everyone at Hogwarts for standing steadfastly in the face of danger.

Of course, it was Harry who had defeated him, but Hermione and Ron had helped.

_Ron_.

It was nice that now they were actually dating. Very slowly, of course. Neither of them wanted to mess up their friendship. But Harry was with Ginny and everyone was pairing off. It was inevitable. Ron was her best friend. He'd seen her at her worst and still cared. It was a new relationship, and she was excited to see where it would lead.

She smiled to herself, remembering their late night snog session yesterday. As she rounded the corner, the crisp cold air filled her nostrils. She loved when the weather was slightly, but not too cold.

Hopefully she could get a potion or something to make her less sleepy all the time.

As she approached the door she could see Madam Pomfrey through the glass making one of the hospital beds up. No one was in there, which she was grateful for. She didn't exactly want everyone to know the Head Girl was having tired spells and stress dreams.

She turned the doorknob and walked in.

* * *

Twenty minutes later, Hermione's eyes glazed over as she received her diagnosis.

No.

_No._

It couldn't.

And yet, it was.

And _how _was it?

And the worst part? She would be unable to do anything on her own.

It was funny…she could see Madam Pomfrey and her mouth moving as she was saying something, but she couldn't _hear_ her at all. She heard the blood rushing in her veins though, and her heart beating so fiercely she thought for a moment she might pass out.

"Perhaps Mr. Weasley should be here?," Madam Pomfrey said gently, reaching her arm out to grip Hermione's unsteady self.

"Let me get you some water," she started, removing her wand and incanting a glass filled with water.

"Hermione?," she said, placing the girl's hand around the glass.

"Are you alright?"

Hermione just stared at her.

"You're just a little shocked…I can give you a mild sedative but I should probably call Mr. Weasley to escort you-,"

The girl was still staring at her strangely. She took the glass of water from her hand and set it down.

She started speaking again, gentling her tone a bit. "Hermione, you do know you have options…"

Hermione stared back at her and a single tear slowly rolled its way down her face.

"Oh, there, there now!" Madam Pomfrey said, giving her a tissue.

"It's alright…it's alright…I'm sure in time, he, and you, will be happy."

Hermione remained stoned faced as the lone tear continued it's journey. Madam Pomfrey continued.

"It just takes getting used to the idea, you know. Or not…whatever you both decide."

She turned back to gather several potions to prepare for Hermione but was stopped by a small noise she was not sure she heard correctly.

"What did you say, my dear?"

"No."

Hermione had spoken so quietly she had trouble hearing it.

"No?…Hermione?,"

"Not him. It was not him." Hermione said slowly, her voice no more than a whisper. She continued.

"It wasn't Ron…it was…we…we were captured…," her voice drifted off.

Madam Pomfrey's face became tight and serious all of a sudden.

"I see. Are you telling me that you…did not consent to…these actions?"

Hermione looked up at her with red-rimmed eyes and then dropped her head down, as the tears fell freely.

Madam Pomfrey was not an overly warm individual but the sobbing girl looked so pathetic, she sat next to her and wrapped her close, allowing her to cry on her shoulder.

"Ssssh…sssssh. It's going to be alright-," she started, trying to soothe the scared girl. When the cries quieted down to sobs, she sat back, holding Hermione by the forearms gently.

"My dear, do you understand what this means?"

Hermione looked at her, confused. It could mean any number of things.

"What?," Hermione said back to her, in a daze.

"Well... I'll have to speak with Professor McGonagall."

Hermione's eyes grew wide and she stood, tearing herself away.

"No! I can't—she can't… no one must know!"

"I'm afraid that everyone will know soon anyway, you are beginning to show."

Hermione turned away, embarrassed and looked out the window. How could she be the brightest witch of her age and have missed something so…_elementary_? How could she have been so stupid? And blind?

"I want you to know, Miss Granger, this was in no way your fault. We are talking about someone not abiding the rules of war and taking advantage of his situation in a thoroughly reprehensible manner."

Hermione couldn't bring herself to turn back. She was too ashamed. She was so angry at herself. So many different things were running through her head as she slowly felt the world turn sideways. The last thing she remembered was trying to reach out and catch herself as she fell to the hard ground.


	3. Chapter 3

Hermione absently stared at her cuticles. She would rather be anywhere than here in this minute, with Madam Pomfrey, Professor McGonagall, Professor Snape and Headmaster Dumbledore all in the Headmaster's office, being forced to remember back to a time she had tried so hard to block out of her mind. She had stuffed it down, somewhere deep, to a place she never accessed.

It was traumatic, yes, but it had also made her consider her role in all of it. Not blaming herself, no. But had he forced her? Not exactly. Coerced, yes, forced, no. When she asked him to stop, he did. When it came down to it, the reason she didn't like to think about it was because she had allowed it. She had been curious; curious about what occurs between a man and a woman. Curious about her own body and it's secrets as well. It had all happened so fast as well. He had been so much older, experienced, and in charge, which she hated admitting, but she liked. It was nice sometimes, when you were a girl in control of everything, to cede that control; to yield to someone else. She blushed as she remembered him, knowing exactly how to work her body to, to-…

She could never tell Ron. She could never tell her other friends.

She definitely did not want to be in this meeting.

Dumbledore sat, regarding her over the frames of his glasses, Snape at his side. Madam Pomfrey was seated to the side and McGonagall slowly paced in front of her.

"Miss Granger," McGonagall started, "Madam Pomfrey had made me aware of your…situation, and I felt it would be remiss if I did not involve Professors Dumbledore and Snape."

Hermione looked down at the ground and shifted uncomfortably in her chair. _'Yes, it's so great that both these wonderful men can be here silently judging me. How thoughtful of you,_' she thought to herself.

'_Come on Hermione, you are the strongest girl here_,' she quietly built herself up as she decided what to say next. She cleared her throat.

"I've had a day to think over everything and I've decided given the circumstances I…I do not wish to go through with the pregnancy."

Professor McGonagall strode over to her side. "We understand, Hermione, but I'm afraid it is not quite so simple. And it is precisely for that reason that I have called upon your headmaster and professor."

Dumbledore then spoke from his ornate chair.

"Miss Granger…I want you to know, we take your matter very seriously. What has been done to you is truly appalling. We are on your side and we will advocate for you. But we are bound by the laws of magic, of which I am not sure you are fully aware."

Hermione clenched her jaw and straightened her shoulders.

"You are referring, of course, to my blood status."

Dumbledore shook his head slowly, his eyes closing.

"There are only several doctors who have spells for termination of pregnancy. And, I'm sad to say, all of them will require consent from the member of the union who is of purer blood status."

Hermione thought for a moment and narrowed her eyes, before throwing her head back and laughing.

"I'm not sure I'm hearing you correctly professor…are you saying that I won't be able to make a decision about this pregnancy without the _consent of my captor_?!"

"Not without an exception from the Ministry of Magic," Snape offered, under his breath. She turned to look at him.

"You can't be serious-"

"I too find it ridiculous, Miss Granger." Snape said flatly.

Professor McGonagall walked over to Hermione as she stood.

"We do have several options. The first would be to petition the ministry and wait for their response. We can require them to expedite of course, but as time is of the essence-,"

"And the other?" Hermione asked angrily her eyes flashing as she strode to the window in Dumbledore's office.

"The second…," McGonagall's voice drifted off and she looked at Dumbledore and then at Snape. Dumbledore spoke next.

"The second, would be to find him, if he is alive, and bring him in to verify permission for the procedure."

"Absolutely not!," Hermione spun around angrily, then turned back to the window.

_If_ he's alive.

Was he dead?

Her heart fluttered a little.

She hadn't even considered that possibility. Her brain fired anew.

'_Why does it matter? He's left you like this. He's so irresponsibly left you in this predicament_!' Her mind flashed and over-processed clashing thoughts as she watched the students through the window. They were so small from this office they looked like ants. How she wished to be one of them; the worst fear among them being if they failed a test or were sent to detention. Life had been so simple until yesterday. Well, until that night…

"I don't want to have to see him-,"

"You won't have to." Snape said, a little too forcefully. As she looked in his eyes, she saw something she had never seen; a moment of hesitation, of uncertainty. He changed his tone and continued. "I would go and get him and bring him here. He can sign any documents he needs and then he would be escorted immediately back to Azkaban."

"Assuming he is alive," McGonagall offered.

"Yes. Assuming he is alive and imprisoned." Snape added.

Hermione was quiet for a moment, and looked at Madam Pomfrey.

"Hermione, what are you thinking?"

Hermione paused and studied each of them before responding.

"I'm thinking all of this sounds suspiciously like it's been decided before I walked into this room!"

"Would you like us to have Mister Potter or Weasley join us?" asked McGonagall.

"No, and I would prefer to not involve either. This is my own personal business."

Dumbledore stood. "Of course. This is a private matter. You may rely on our discretion, Miss Granger. But I am afraid I will most likely have to involve the Ministry at this particular junction."

Hermione shuddered. Her private business being known by everyone, including members of the Ministry was not high at the top of her to do list.

"We will proceed with utmost consideration for your privacy." he added.

Minerva McGonagall cleared her throat. "It would be good to involve them; to have a record of the matter itself, and also to get the requisite allowances we may need in place."

"The requisite allowances?," Hermione growled again. She looked from Pomfrey to McGonagall to Dumbledore to Snape.

"Are you all mad?! What _I_ cannot understand is how all of _you_ cannot understand that it's _my_ body and_ I _and only _I_ should have a say over what does or does not happen to it! I am so sick and tired of having my mudblood status figuring into everything! When will you all learn I'm exactly the same as the pure bloods, and even _smarter_ and _better in school_! I'm so sick of this!"

Hermione was furious now, her eyes flashing and her hair billowing out around her.

"I understand and agree with you," Snape replied calmly and coolly. "I am very sorry that your school and community has failed you so completely. I cannot imagine what it must be like."

Hermione was more shocked than anyone at hearing such kind words coming from her normally terrible professor.

He continued. "Still, if you decide,_ I_ will go find him personally and take care of this myself."

Hermione thought about it for a moment and studied her professor's dark eyes. They did not seem cold and uncaring as they normally were; he did seem truly sorry for her. And maybe she even detected a hint of pity. She nodded slowly at him and spoke, after a moment of consideration.

"Alright, then. Find him and get him. But I do _not_ want to see him, I….I just don't think I can face him again."

"Naturally." Snape raised his eyes to Dumbledore's and Dumbledore gave him a small nod.

"Well, then Miss Granger, it looks like we have an excellent plan in place. Please go with Madam Pomfrey; she will give you several potions to make you feel a little more like yourself. And do try to relax. My hope for you is that this is all over quickly and will be a distant memory as soon as possible." Dumbledore nodded to Madam Pomfrey and Professor McGonagall.

McGonagall walked to Hermione's side. "Do let me know if you need anything at all, Miss Granger."

Hermione managed to turn the ends of her lips up weakly.

"Thank you all for your help with this frankly ridiculous and patriarchal matter."

Then she turned towards Madam Pomfrey.

"I'll go with you. Let's get started so I can get back to classes."


	4. Chapter 4

The heavy door of the cell creaked open, and Severus Snape peered into the inky blackness.

He couldn't see anyone or anything, but suddenly he made out two eyes, squinting as they adjusted to the light.

"To what do I owe the pleasure?," the man in the cell started, confused.

No response.

"Oh, oh," he clucked his tongue. "Looks like I'm in _trouble_," he said sarcastically. "Hogwarts sent their finest, eh?"

"Come into the light," Snape stated bluntly. He heard shuffling and then a drawn, stubbled face making it's way into the light. He recognized the face of this snatcher. He had seen him before, but he had never known who he was. His dirty prisoner's hands were chained together, and he was wearing the gray-and-white striped uniform of Azkaban with his number, A29401, embroidered on the right chest.

"Are you the snatcher who answers to the name Scabior?"

"I am."

He stood directly in front of Snape now, studying him. Recognition dawned on him.

"Oh…We've met before, you and I.," Scabior started, his mouth curling into a smile at the corner. "You might not remember. It was at one of the Dark Lord's-"

"Do not say his name." Snape stated sharply.

Scabior smirked and turned away. "Why are you you here? What could I have possibly done from here in Azkaban."

Snape stared at him, at the man's cavalier demeanor and it sickened him. His lips curled into a sneer and he continued.

"Did you or did you not apprehend Harry Potter, Ronald Weasley and Hermione Granger?"

Scabior's eyes narrowed and he cocked his head to the side. He turned back to face Snape.

"We did. Yeh. Back in the Forest of Dean, I reckon."

"And then you took them to Malfoy Manor?"

Scabior sighed dramatically and turned away, studying the fraying edges of the garment at his wrist. "Obviously. Look, what's this all about? Taking in prisoners 'ent a crime in wartime."

Snape spun around, his eyes flashing angrily.

"I'll be asking the questions."

Scabior rolled his eyes. "Fine, then. Yes, we brought 'em three to Malfoy Manor. There you are, on the record-"

"Did you detour?"

"Not that I can recall…Nah."

Snape continued, slowly pacing back and forth like a lion.

"And…after Malfoy Manor?"

Scabior's eyes narrowed. "What's this all about, then?"

Snape's jaw clenched. "Did you leave alone?"

Scabior raised his eyebrows in amusement. "Well, if you must know, I took the girl…as payment. For services rendered. Cheeky little bint wasn't easy to catch neither."

"Forcing yourself on a student-,"

Scabior turned back to face Snape slowly, confusion etched on his features. _Forcing?_ His face softened as he looked at Snape, features drawing together as he remembered, and he shook his head slightly, suppressing a dark chuckle, "oh, is _that_ what she told you?,"

Severus narrowed his eyes at the man and continued quietly through clenched teeth. "Was that not how it happened?"

Scabior shrugged and curled his lips into a tight smile.

"That's what they'll all say I suppose, when in reality they're pink and _wet_ and _open_-,"

"Enough!," Severus hissed, furious, raising his arm suddenly as if he was going to hex him. Scabior put his manacled hands up to shield himself in response. Snape slowly exhaled and lowered his wand. He spoke quietly.

"She may have been of age, but she is a _student,_ she is _young_, and she is under the protection of Hogwarts."

"What are you going to do about it, eh? Throw me in Azkaban?" Scabior joked, laughing and turning away again.

"She is-," Snape continued, almost finding it impossible to wrap his head around what he had to say next. He lowered his voice and started again. "You are to come with me. Back to Hogwarts."

"Fine. I'd love a weekend in the country. But I ent goin' nowhere without my things." He held up his arms and looked at himself and continued speaking. "Stripes never did anything for me. But plaid on the other hand…," his voice trailed off and Snape understood his meaning.

"You are entitled to your things. Though I cannot imagine why, " Snape said, turning and motioning for the man to follow him. He continued.

"Be quick about it and then we'll go."

"Yeh, as quick as-," Scabior started but Snape spun around again, his wand at the snatcher's throat immediately.

"And do not for one moment mistake the fact that if you run, I will most assuredly _relish_ the thought of putting you down like the dog you are."

Scabior burst out laughing, his manacled hands high in the air in an '_I surrender_' motion. "Wouldn't dream of it."

He lowered his hands. "Besides I'm looking forward to seeing my-,"

Snape quickly cut him off, "You will not be seeing her."

Scabior chuckled to himself as he walked in front of Snape, "Then whatever am I being called to Hogwarts for?"

No response.

"Alright, alright, you win…"

As they approached the prisoner intake area, he was shoved a bag of his things, minus his wand, naturally. Scabior studied Snape as he flicked his wand, signing some sort of form. Probably a magical release for questioning or something of the sort.

Then he could finally take off the blasted stripes and put on something more appropriate. Yes, he was feeling more like himself as he fastened his plaid pants and reached for his vest. His hand reached for the battered leather jacket. 'I_ missed you too, old friend_', he thought as he put his arms through the holes and wrapped it around his shoulders. It still fit the same. Good. That meant he hadn't lost too much weight. And it still smelled like the forest. Like running, and capture….Scabior licked his lips. That was when he was at his peak. When he was running after someone.

Several moments later, he was breathing in clean air. He took a deep breath, let it fill up his lungs completely. He was out. He was free for the time being. Well, sort of. He adjusted his leather coat over his shoulders and resumed his swaggering walk. '_Get used to it_,' he thought to himself. He had no intention of returning to Azkaban. He would make sure of that.


	5. Chapter 5

Hermione heard the whispers as she walked from class to class, trying to go about her day. It was all anyone could talk about. Sadly, her morning had ended with Ron and Harry facing her as she walked into Potions.

"Is it true?," Ron had asked, his eyes wet. His features were taut, and she was having trouble reading him.

Hermione didn't know what to say. How could she even begin to tell him? But this was not how she wanted him to find out. She was hoping to have the whole matter sorted. Perhaps she wouldn't have had to tell him at all…

"Is it?…Mione?", he spoke again and her heart broke. She wasn't sure if it was anger or hurt she was detecting in his voice. Probably a combination. Her eyes darted between him and Harry. She hung her head down and spoke quietly to both of them.

"Ron…I…I don't know what people are saying, but…he did,….he _did_, and I-,"

"That's all I needed to know." He said, bluntly, abruptly and then turned on his heel and hurried out of the classroom.

Harry took a step into Hermione and put his hand on her shoulder.

"He'll come round. You'll see. If you need anything, I'm here."

Hermione looked at her friend. "Harry, come outside for a moment. I need to know what you've heard."

Just then Hermione caught Snape's eyes. He was preparing to start his class. But instead of his usual sneer, he gave her a slow nod and turned his attention back to the class.

Hermione let out an indrawn breath she didn't know she was holding on to and dragged Harry out of the classroom.

"He's very upset, Hermione-,"

"I'm upset, Harry!", she cut him off, a little too forcefully, startling his arm off her.

Harry looked at the floor and seemed to consider what to say next.

"I-, I have to tell you I do feel responsible-"

"No, Harry. This had nothing to do with you or Ron. It's not your fault."

"But I could have-,"

"No," she said again and turned from him, one arm across her chest the other kneading her forehead trying to determine what to say.

"Look…He had me for awhile, and he was fine. He wasn't cruel to me, fed me, let me bathe, brought me books, he…he was fine. It…it happened one night and…I didn't stop him. I was afraid. I didn't know what to do. I…I had no idea that he hadn't performed any spells…how could I? I've never…well, obviously, I mean-", Hermione cut herself off as she was blushing. It was strange to be talking about this with her friend. Her male friend.

Harry held up his hand as this was paining him to hear.

"It's fine, you don't have to say anything else."

"It's this stupid Magical Law, Harry. Dumbledore told me I can't…have it…_sorted_…unless the more magical of the two of us agrees. Which, sadly is him."

"What!? That's the stupidest bloody thing I've ever heard-"

"They have him, you know. They're bringing him here. So he can agree to it."

"I don't want him anywhere near you!" Harry nearly shouted at her. She was a little surprised by her friends protectiveness. She continued softly.

"He won't be. They've said I won't have to see him. This is just the quickest way. Runcorn and Yaxley are on their way now…"

Harry turned away abruptly. He looked like he was going to punch the stone wall for a minute, and then he seemed to realize it, took a deep breath, and exhaled. He thought for a moment before speaking again.

"Hermione, I don't know what else to say except, except…I am so, so sorry."

Hermione walked to him slowly and placed her hands around his wrists.

"Thanks. It's not your fault. Everything's going to be fine, you'll see," she was smiling at him now.

Harry pulled her to him, into a tighter-than-normal hug.

"I want you to know, I'll do what I can; anything you ask, anything you need."

Hermione pulled back slowly and looked him in the eyes.

"Thanks, Harry. Will you…will you try talking to Ron? I mean, not now, of course, but…but when you think he might,-"

"I will. I promise."

Hermione looked over her shoulder, and then spoke to Harry again.

"You should go back into class. Snape is being rather kind-"

"_Snape!?_"

Hermione laughed. "I have to go now. To be questioned like the _Mudblood_ I am…,"

"Hermione-"

"I know, I know. You and Ron don't think like that. Well, go on then." Hermione nodded towards the door to Potions.

"See you later?," Harry asked, raising his eyebrows.

"Definitely. I'll tell you all about it," Hermione replied, rolling her eyes. She watched Harry manage a feeble smile in her direction and then head into class. She took a deep breath, in through her nose, out through her mouth before turning on her heel towards Professor Dumbledore's office.


	6. Chapter 6

Hermione stood between Professor McGonagall and Madam Pomfrey in the hallway outside Dumbledore's private downstairs offices. Her heart was beating fast because she knew at this very moment, somewhere not too far from the very spot she was standing, Scabior was also about to be questioned.

Professor McGonagall led them down the hallway and magically unlatched a door and stood outside, ushering Hermione and Madam Pomfrey inside.

"He is going to try and make you sound incompetent, Miss Granger," she cautioned, as Hermione heard footsteps outside and a knock on the door.

"Come in," Madam Pomfrey called, giving Hermione a sympathetic glance.

"Albert," Professor McGonagall nodded at him.

"Minerva…Poppy," he acknowledged them both before seating himself on one side of the large table in the center of the room. He gestured to Hermione, who approached and sat opposite him.

* * *

Scabior leaned back in his chair tilting his head at the too-low ceiling he was being questioned in, someplace deep in the bowels of Hogwarts. Corbin Yaxley was asking the appropriate questions but obviously on his side.

"Do you know why you're here?," he started.

"Not really. Snape showed up and asked me questions about the girl," Scabior responded, his hair wild about his face.

"And did he mention anything else about it?"

The corner of Scabior's mouth twitched slightly. "He thinks I 'ad my way with her."

"Well that is one of the matters."

Scabior's eyes narrowed. He leaned forward, challenging Yaxley to keep talking. He didn't and neither man spoke.

"Aaaaaaaaand?" Scabior continued.

Yaxley smirked at him. "Let's just get to the official questioning, eh?"

Scabior shoved his chair back, obviously annoyed.

"So, she was in your care, eh? The girl."

"Yeh, I told you already, Yax."

Yaxley leaned in close to Scabior's ear and whispered. "Can't do that, it's gotta be official."

Scabior rolled his eyes and crossed his arms over his chest. "Yes, I had the girl in my…_care_."

"And did you ever lay a hand on her?"

Scabior seemed to ponder this a moment, then replied simply, "Nah."

"Did you rape her? Did you hold her down?"

"Nah."

"Did you coerce or threaten her?"

"No."

Yaxley set his own chair back, screeching it across the floor.

"I'm satisfied then. I'll go bring my findings on. Stay here and don't bother anyone."

Scabior resumed looking at the ceiling as the door closed behind Yaxley. He tugged at the fingers of his one glove and removed it, placing it in his pocket. He thought about Hermione, the girl with the big, doe eyes and said to himself, "_Hope I'll be seeing you soon, my lovely_."

* * *

Albert Runcorn was a giant arse. That's what Hermione concluded from his pestering line of questions about her blood status. It was so odd to see him again, since Harry had Polyjuiced himself into Runcorn. Hermione had done a double take at first.

Professor McGonagall and Madam Pomfrey were both present during Hermione's…interrogation, and it was obvious neither of them thought much of his callous demeanor either.

He looked over his glasses at her and began his new line of questioning.

"I understand that this may be difficult for you, Miss Granger, and I want you to rest assured the Ministry takes this matter very seriously. If you are prepared, we can begin."

Hermione nodded. "Yes, thank you."

"Hermione Granger, do you assert that you were raped and are now pregnant by a man that is known to you as Scabior?"

Hermione's cheeks turned pink and she immediately looked down. _Well, when you say it like that…_

She looked over to the two women in the room with her. McGonagall had her eyebrows raised and looked like she was not amused.

Hermione cleared her throat and began.

"Well…I-," her voice trailed off and she noticed her hands were shaking. She exhaled slowly.

"I did not want to have sex with him, no."

Runcorn continued. "Good, so you told him 'No', then?"

Another deep breath. "I- I don't know if I ever specifically said 'No', but I-,"

"Did he hold you down?"

Hermione glanced quickly to McGonagall. "Well, no- I mean he didn't force me down or anything-"

"He didn't force you? I don't understand," he said, his face like a stone mask.

"I believe she's saying he did not physically force her but she did not consent," Professor McGonagall stated.

Hermione nodded at her, "Yes, I think that's what I'm trying to say."

Runcorn leaned back in his chair.

"So, he didn't overpower you and you never told him 'no' but he was…supposed to read your mind and know you did not want to engage in intercourse with him?"

Hermione's eyes flashed angrily as he continued.

Madam Pomfrey spoke this time. "Albert, I would be quite careful with your…_demeanor_ in this line of questioning."

"Poppy, the fact is that she did not tell him to stop, or 'no', and he wasn't physically forcing her either. Seems simple to me." He stood up.

Professor McGonagall rose as well. "Yes, it would seem simple to you, as you are so _simple_."

Runcorn looked at her angrily. "I'll note your response in my report."

"Yes, please do." she said.

Hermione spoke angrily. "What am I to do now?"

Runcorn got his briefcase together as he spoke. "You will await further instructions from the Ministry pending our decision on the investigation."

"But I need an answer _now_-"

"Yes, I do understand the urgency Miss Granger. I'll make every attempt to expedite. I am going to speak with Mr. Yaxley right now. We will confer and may or may not be able to get you an answer today."

Before even letting any of the women get a word in edgewise he had packed his briefcase and exited the room.


End file.
